


Deleted Scene :Felicity tells Oliver about Moira's Threat

by orphan_account



Series: Deleted Scenes [1]
Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Deleted Scene, F/M, Gen, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-04
Updated: 2014-11-04
Packaged: 2018-02-24 03:33:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,194
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2566733
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account





	Deleted Scene :Felicity tells Oliver about Moira's Threat

“I’m not supposed to tell you, but I can’t lie to you. You mean too much to me,” Felicity takes a breath, before the words spill out, “Malcolm Merlyn is Thea’s father,” Felicity watched Oliver’s confused face shift as he understood what she was saying. Understood just who instructed her to keep it a secret. Who had been keeping it a secret from him. Felicity felt regret slam in her stomach as she watched Oliver’s eye’s change, growing cold and distant.

“Oliver,” she cried quietly, trying to remain discreet among the large crowd of people gathered for Moira’s candidacy. Her heart clenched as he turned from her, walking up to the stage without a glance back. Moira was right. He would always blame her, just a little bit. She was the one who had destroyed his mental image of his mother. She was the one who brought the unwelcome truth. Felicity had shattered his world in seconds, and she couldn’t take it back. 

She watched as Oliver stumbled over his speech, trying to control his emotions in the public eye. 

“You don’t know Moira Queen and you don’t know what she’s capable of,” Felicity’s breath caught, waiting for what he would say next.

“…When it comes to helping the people of Starling City,” he gathered himself, plastering on the painfully vibrant, playboy smile that was so foreign to Felicity, “ladies and gentleman, Moira Queen.”

As Oliver finished, Felicity turned and strode out, unwilling to watch any longer. Driving quickly to her apartment, her mind flitted through images of Oliver’s dejected face. That moment when she broke him. Moira Queen had been right; he would never forgive her. 

Silent tears rolled down her cheeks. She cried for Oliver, for everything she knew he would be going through right then. But as she unsuccessfully tried to calm herself by making coffee at her apartment, she began to cry selfishly. She cried for the hate he would feel towards her now. She mourned the little looks and touches they had shared, somehow knowing that those would dwindle after this. She cried for the man that she had lost with that sentence, for the relationship they had never had but she had always hoped for. She knew those hopes were crushed with today.

She didn’t know how long she had been sitting on her couch, dazed in thought. Her coffee cup was cold in her hand and the sky had gone dark. Her tears had long since died up, leaving her eyes tired and slightly bloodshot.

She picked herself off the couch, knowing she should head to the foundry, but instead changing into a pair of boxer-shorts and a tank top, before settling back into the couch and flipping on the television.

The doorbell startled her, and she begrudgingly climbed out of her blanket-cocoon to answer it. She whirled open the door, coming eye to eye with deep green leather.

“Oliver,” she startled, coming out as more of a question, “Are you okay?” His eyes looked misty and lost, and he shifted uneasily from foot to foot.

“You said that you weren’t supposed to tell me,” Oliver stepped into Felicity’s apartment, pacing the room, “Why weren’t you supposed to tell me?”

Felicity felt the emotions she had managed to bury rise as he stared at her. His eyes pleaded with her to take everything she said back. To make this go away. To make it hurt less. But she couldn’t. Nothing she would say could help, so she stayed silent, trying not to hurt him any more than she already had.

“Felicity, please,” he begged. She watched as his brow furrowed, “My mother… Felicity, what did my mother say to you?” He asked slowly, as though testing out the words to see if his theory was right. Felicity felt her expression change before she could stop herself, and he started towards her, noticing the shift.

“Hey,” he ran his hands up and down her arms as she stood frigidly in front of him, “whatever she said, it’s okay. You can tell me.”

But he was wrong, and Felicity knew that. Because not only did his mother keep this secret, but she had used Felicity’s feelings for Oliver to try to keep it quiet. Felicity knew this would be another kick in the gut for Oliver. Another thing she wouldn’t be able to take back.

“You know now. And that’s what matters,” Felicity said evasively, trying to move away from him. Oliver’s hands clamped down on her arms, pulling her closer before slipping his hands in hers.

“Please tell me,” Oliver pleaded, head hanging slightly as he watched his own thumb stroke her left hand.

They were standing too close. Felicity could feel the heat radiating from Oliver’s body as his thumb drew light patterns on her hand, shooting sensations through her arm. She knew that if she reached up on her toes, just slightly, their lips would brush. Her breath came out fast—too fast.

I see the way you look at him. Moira’s threat filled her ears like she was right there, with them.

If you tell him this, you will rip his world apart. Oliver’s eyes stared down at her, and he was broken.

And a part of him will always blame you. Panic filled her chest.

He will hate you too. Felicity slammed her eyes shut, trying to block out the voice is her head. Oliver would never forgive her. It was her fault.

Felicity finally opened her eyes when she felt a calloused hand come up to cup her cheek. The blue eyes that met her own had changed as they stared down at her. They were still tinged with sadness, but they had a new glint in them as they looked down at her in concern. She leaned into his hand, a gesture that comforted her more than any words ever could.

She knew then it’s going to be okay. With Oliver’s hand on her cheek, the familiarity reminded her that he had been through hell and back. He had come face-to-face with death, and never succumbed. He had moved past his darkness and become a hero. And she had been with him. Every step of the way. 

“She told me that it was better for you to not know,” Felicity paused looking down at their feet, gathering courage to tell him how selfish she almost was, “and that if you knew, if I told you, some part of you would hate me. You would hate me for shattering everything that you thought was true.”

She was met with silence, which provoked her to look up at Oliver. He was staring at her; and it’s not hate that fluttered between them, but something heated and thick. He pulled her in close, and she settled into the crook of his neck as a relieved sob made it’s way out of her throat.

“I could never hate you Felicity. Please know that.”

They stood there for awhile, tangled in each other. They were friends, yes, but also so much more. This, standing here, with their bodies comfortably flush, was where Felicity felt most at home


End file.
